[Shuffle 27b] "We want big hits."
Fetch the Bolt Cutters, Fiona Apple
Relish, Joan Osborne
Blackout, Britney Spears
Back to Black, Amy Winehouse
Kala, M.I.A.
A redo; first try spun out from Bolt Cutters to pick up Relish and Amy, but not this one. Thinking again about Fiona's poetry and percussion, metal and skin, I looked back to Back to Black and then Blackout felt almost too obvious. We sought Amy too hard and we're still trying to save Britney. We threw Joan away and Fiona's still working through the harm we caused. How we hear them and how we see them. The beats brought M.I.A. to mind. The hits kept her there. Big hits. Singles made to spin, on repeat, turned over and over; to sell. Didn't even realize "kala" brings more dark wordplay to the party. What do we make women do to adore them? To make them see themselves as we do? Love songs written for us to repeat back to them, whisper to ourselves, chant and scream in cars and arenas. They ripped holes in our mid-90s idealism that bled into mid-aughts idolatry. Who's your goddess now? We make her and destroy her. We become her. She undoes us. Finally, raw pandemic-era reckoning. Her eyes on us, seeing herself, knowing us all and our dangerous belief in her.
Heard this go’round: March 14, 2021
Teeth suck, "what she runnin' from?" Mid-century groove and hollerin' horns, dropped 'her's and a quiet wailing underneath. Jungle metropolis, black and better, beats from the first world, work and werq and "buy one song, get one free." Tricky rhymes, cymbal crash and teeth gnash, dismantle the patriarchy one hussel at a time, one they've never heard. "Would you wanna see if seeing meant that you had to believe?" Rhythm and black and blues. Strained voice and scratchy memories. Holler and gun chamber, shot and spin. Chant, whisper, "vinyl" and "naked," "I can't get enough of you." Piano slam, tickle and scream, latin. Blips and sizzle, "I've got my eye on you, and I can't let you get away." Guitar riffs, bass hits, harmonica sucked dry and desperate, "serve me up some pretty pretty people, serve me up somebody I can believe. Don't feel sorry for me."
He Can Only Hold Her
Hussel
Everybody
One of Us
Why Should I Be Sad
World Town
Perfect Lover
Shameika
I Want You To Love Me
Radar
Dracula Moon
a way to listen